


the thing about circles is they never end

by pirateygoodness



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:21:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25651273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pirateygoodness/pseuds/pirateygoodness
Summary: But here's the fucking thing about Charlie. The thing that just makes Astra want to scream into the night sky about her. Charlie is warm and soft and infinitely kissable and present, until she's not. She's the smell of sweat and stale beer and glitter on Astra's cheeks and the most beautiful, aching almost that Astra's ever had in her life.(or: Astra and Charlie begin, post-s5)
Relationships: Charlie/Astra Logue
Comments: 9
Kudos: 34





	1. welcome to my cul-de-sac, friends

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Chastra Week, prompt: au day. Post-season canon divergence unless it's not :D? Each chapter title is a song title, because I'm me, so in order:
> 
> Work Title/Chapter One: Mr Parker's Cul-De-Sac Theme  
> Chapter Two: Chvrches f Marshmello - Here With Me  
> Chapter Three: The Home Team - She's Quiet  
> Chapter Four: Taylor Swift - Cornelia Street

It starts at a punk show, and that feels - something. Symbolic. Important, maybe. Astra's not sure what the best word is, but she knows that when she thinks back to it later it seems significant. They start together at a punk show, the way that John and Natalie fell apart at a punk show, the way that punk music seems to be in Astra's bones. 

Astra's drinking bad whiskey mixed with bad soda, something John ordered for her with a smile and a wink and encouragement to _have fun._ She's starting to feel buzzed, and that's - never how it works down below. In Hell, the whiskey burns and burns but nobody ever feels drunk, no matter how hard they try. Up here, the whiskey is warm and fuzzy and it smells and tastes a little like nail polish remover but it makes her feel warm and glowy all the way down. And - sort of like her mouth doesn't work. No. It's - numb. Her mouth feels numb; she runs her fingertip across the edge of her lower lip just to check. "Hey," she says. "Is alcohol supposed to feel sort of - weird?" 

Charlie grins at her. She's still adrenaline-high, her movements fast and bouncy. Onstage, Charlie was magic. She was all loud music and screaming and energy and if anything the set seemed to give her even more of that. The excitement radiates off of her. Astra doesn't think she's ever seen Charlie this happy, before. She nods and gestures at the bartender; a shot of whiskey appears in her hand. "That's sort of the point," she says.

When Charlie takes her shot, she tilts her head all the way back and Astra is struck by the sudden and inescapable _beauty_ of her neck. The way her throat bobs as she swallows, the way the movement makes the muscles stand out. "It feels weird," Astra says. "Also your neck is like - really kissable. Did you know that?" 

Charlie turns to look - like, _really_ look - at her. Her eyes search Astra's face, bob down towards her toes and back up again before she breaks into a long, slow grin. "You're drunk," she crows. 

"Your neck is still extremely kissable. I'm just saying. Like right -" she reaches out and taps the side of Charlie's neck, right behind her ear. Charlie's skin is hot to touch, a little sticky with sweat. "There. It's a good neck. Also: probably." 

Astra pushes back, so that her torso isn't leaning on the bar and instead is - upright. Uprightish, and swaying gently in the breeze. Charlie's arm is suddenly around her. It's not really a romantic thing, it's more of a support. Astra's swaying ebbs. She likes this. Likes the way that Charlie feels solid next to her, strong and present in a way that Astra's never really felt before. "Come on, kitten," Charlie says. "Let's get you a little farther away from the bar." 

"In my defense," Astra says. "Hell alcohol is like. Totally different." 

Charlie laughs and grips her a little tighter. "Unfortunately, this is all we've got, love." 

Dancing at a punk club is - Astra doesn't know. It's not what she thinks of when she thinks of dancing. Her mind's eye pictures steps, manners, partners. This is loosely organized chaos. The press of bodies in the center of the floor is moving in semi-unison, a sea of jumping and raised hands and people leaning against each other, some swaying from intoxication and others swaying with the music. It's messy and it sets Astra on edge but Charlie drags her into the very heart of it. 

"Come on," she whisper-shouts into Astra's ear. Her breath against Astra's sweat-warm skin gives her goosebumps. "Let's dance some of that booze out of you." 

Astra doesn't know what that means, doesn't feel like that fits with the mechanics of how alcohol and bodies work. But Charlie's hand is on her wrist and she's tugging Astra deep into the mass of dancing, shoving people. Astra follows. 

Charlie moves like she was born on the dance floor of a punk show. She's all arms and elbows and bouncing; bodychecking her neighbours with just enough force to create pressure but not enough force to knock them over. "I don't know how," Astra says. 

Charlie's hands loop around both of her wrists, then Astra's world tilts and she stumbles and Charlie's pressed against her front. "You're a natural," she says, "I promise. Move like this." 

Charlie raises Astra's hands above her head for her. Once Astra has the hang of that, Charlie's hands slide down and she guides Astra's hips, helping them move in time to bass so loud that Astra can feel it in her rib cage like a second heartbeat. 

Astra can't take her eyes off of Charlie. 

Charlie's looking down, her focus intent on Astra's hips but then her gaze flickers upward for a minute and locks with Astra's. Astra was wrong. It's not Charlie's neck that's kissable, it's her mouth. It's her mouth and her face and her eyelids and everything and that realization hits Astra like a shot of whiskey, burning all the way down. 

+

But here's the fucking thing about Charlie. The thing that just makes Astra want to scream into the night sky about her. Charlie is warm and soft and infinitely kissable and present, until she's not. She's the smell of sweat and stale beer and glitter on Astra's cheeks and the most beautiful, aching almost that Astra's ever had in her life. 

She's also Astra, waking up with her very first hangover, alone. There's glitter on her pillow and glitter on her skin and Charlie's nowhere to be found because of course she isn't. Charlie is back in the 1970s, in London. Astra's sprawled out, the underwire of her bra digging into her ribs, in John Constantine's spare bedroom - her bedroom, now - in 2020. Her mouth is dry and her eyes are dry and her whole body is an impossible mess of contradictions. 

Astra dreamt about kissing Charlie, all night. The warm, floaty kind of dream that she realizes probably came from all of that whiskey. Vivid surround-sound kisses, where she can still almost feel the soft of Charlie's mouth, the way Charlie's hands came up to tickle at the back of her neck. The kind of kisses that made desire bloom in Astra's belly and when she shifts in bed she can feel that she's _wet._

But she's also - fuck _her_ if this is what hangovers feel like, she gets why everyone complains about them so much. She's almost painfully dehydrated, dizzy and a little nauseated and she has to pee more than she's ever had to in her life. 

It feels like Charlie's fault. Astra doesn't know why, but it just - does.


	2. there's a pain in my heart and it won't go away

Zari and John are fucking again. 

They're pretending that they're not, which is somehow more maddening than if John would just talk about it. 

It's not hard. Just a little _hey, Astra, we're emotionally stunted and refuse to acknowledge that we like each other, but we're also uncontrollably horny. we're going to fuck super loudly for the next two to three hours and then flirt super dramatically in the kitchen, so I bought you these noise-cancelling headphones. now you don't have to listen to it._. Common courtesy. But instead it's Zari appearing on John's doorstep like a stray cat with a flimsy excuse on her lips, not quite meeting Astra's eyes. 

Zari left her purse here. Zari needs help with a magic thing. John ruined Zari's favourite skirt - _somehow_ \- and she's here because he owes her dry cleaning money. It's raining and she wanted to make sure John's roof wasn't leaking. It's all Astra can do to bite her tongue, only roll her eyes a little bit when she lets Zari in. She slinks off to the corner of the main floor that's farthest from John's bedroom, puts on the noise cancelling headphones she bought for herself. 

(She gave John an invoice; he still hasn't paid up.) 

It's not that she minds the sex per se. John's an adult. He's allowed to have sex. She doesn't mind Zari's loud orgasms, the way her screams sometimes catch in her throat as they do whatever the fuck they're doing that keeps her coming back. Good for John for making sure she's having a good time. It just - makes Astra feel weird, somehow. Not weird about them, which would at least make sense. 

John and Zari's incessant, joyful sex makes Astra furious with Charlie. 

She doesn't even - no, that's not true. She knows why, but she also refuses to accept it as a good reason, because it's too childish and embarrassing to contemplate. But here it is: Astra's furious with Charlie, because Zari's here and Charlie _isn't_ and maybe there's a part of her that wants to be having loud, eager sex with Charlie right now. A small part. A stupid part, obviously, because Charlie's in the past and probably having tons of sex with punk girls from the 1970s and probably not even thinking about Astra at all. 

Astra picks up her phone, opens the message app before she remembers and throws it back down on the couch. Charlie's in the stupid 1970s, so Astra can't even text to tell her how much she misses her dumb face. So instead she turns her music up a few notches, shifts so that she's sprawled fully across the love seat in the solarium. She doesn't quite fit - her knees hang off of the edge and if she stretches her toes out she can touch the leaves of the deeply neglected monstera that she's been reviving. It's fine. Everything's fine and she's fine about it. 

Zari and John are fucking upstairs and even through Astra's headphones she can hear the frantic crescendo of them on their second round (or maybe it's a third), when there's a knock on the window that startles her out of her seat. 

A face appears against the glass window of the solarium, right next to Astra's face and it's - the person is _in the bushes_ , there's an overgrown forest of semi-feral raspberries along that side of the solarium that Astra's been meaning to get to. They've waded through them, pressed themselves up against the glass to make eye contact with Astra and knock. Astra, who was really hitting a stride with her sulking, leaps off of the love seat. Her phone clatters to the ground, the weight of it dragging her headphones off of her ears and before she can really process who's at the window or what's happening her mouth says, "Go _fuck_ yourself." 

There's a three second delay and then Astra's brain registers that it's Charlie. It's fucking Charlie, grinning from ear to ear, crouched in the bushes outside of Astra's window. Her eyes crinkle at Astra's start and her head falls back; Astra can hear her laughing through the window. "I stand behind that," Astra says. "Go fuck yourself again." 

Charlie shrugs, stands up. She's dressed in perfect 1970s punk uniform: ripped jeans, too-short t-shirt from a punk band Astra doesn't recognize, safety pins down her jacket and one looped into a hoop in her right ear. She's still just - _fuck_ she's so pretty, so full of easy delight and energy. Astra's suddenly, irrationally furious with her for existing. 

"Let me in," Charlie says. "Come on." 

There's a way in around the corner, a glass door that opens at the far side of the solarium into another thicket of unkempt shrubbery. It's a theme at John's house, and it's not that Astra cares if he has a nice garden - if _they_ have a nice garden - but setting everything right has been an oddly satisfying project. The lock on the side door used to be half-rusted, but Astra's been coaxing it back into use. She knows the right sequence of shoves and jiggles to get the lock to release, opening the door into a tangle of leaves and branches. 

Charlie wriggles her way through the spaces between the shrubs and seems to burst through the open door. She pulls Astra into an easy, one-armed hug and all of Astra's fury melts. "Hey you," she says. "How've you been?" 

The word _you_ sounds like a pet name on Charlie's lips. There's a little lilt of affection that makes Astra's heart bloom warm. "Good," Astra says. She wriggles out of the embrace, focuses on the two-handed job of getting the door to catch closed again. "Fine. What are you doing here?"

There's a sound from behind Astra. When she turns away from the door she finds Charlie sprawled across the love seat with one knee tucked underneath her. "To see you," she says. She taps her wrist; there's a time courier strapped to it. "Time travel means you never have to say goodbye." 

"I thought you were staying put." Astra doesn't even know why she's saying it. She wants Charlie here, wants it desperately, but the part of her that's used to guarding her heart can't quite seem to trust it. 

Charlie shrugs. There's a slide to it, her shoulder lifting up and down and her head looking away at the same time. "I am, basically," she says. "If you're busy, I don't have to stay long." 

There's a hurt in Charlie's expression that makes Astra's stomach twist; she pushed too hard. "No, it's -" she hesitates, searching for the words. "You can stay. I just didn't expect you." 

"Yeah?" Charlie says. She reaches out with her foot, the toe of her boot searching for contact with Astra's legs. Astra reaches back, taps at Charlie's Doc Martens with her bare foot. 

"Yeah, I mean. You're already here." From the floor above there's a sudden noise, the crash of bodies against furniture and a long, low groan. "Also, John and Zari are secretly fucking, don't tell anyone." 

Charlie bursts out laughing again. "Atta boy, Johnno. How do you get anything done with that going on upstairs?"

Astra shrugs. "It's what the headphones are for. That, and I spend a lot of time in the garden." 

"Oh yeah?" Charlie says. There's that note to her voice again, her full attention right on Astra. "Show me." 

+

Astra shows her. Walks her through the winding paths of John's sprawling, neglected garden. Points out all of the poisonous plants, the ones that John keeps for spell rituals, the ones that have sprung up wild. Charlie actually listens. 

The path is only one person wide in places, the plant life on either side pushed apart by Astra's feet alone and it's a fight for Charlie to walk beside her. The leaves brush against both of them, gentle resistance against Astra's shins as they ask the plants to part a little further. 

Astra pauses at the very back corner. There's a little nook there, a bench beneath a climbing rose that's completely overgrown and partially collapsed the top of what once was a beautiful pergola. It's Astra's favourite spot. Over time she's cleared a little space, cut the branches just enough to keep the rose from choking off the bench. She can sit and read here, curled up in a little nest of green. The rose is in full bloom this month, heavy with frilly, drooping petals. The scent of them fills the air, makes that nook even sweeter.

The garden, for Astra, is more than private. Even now there's a part of her that's on edge, waiting for Charlie to make a joke or tease her about liking flowers. She hasn't had something that felt like _hers_ before. "It's beautiful," Charlie says. Her voice is soft, the timbre of it dropped to match the quiet way that Astra speaks about her plants. 

"Thank you," Astra whispers. 

"It's good," Charlie says. "That you're happy." 

Astra looks at Charlie. "Are you?" she asks. 

Charlie balks. She pauses, agape, for just long enough that hope flares in Astra's ribs. It's absurd. They're - they're not anything. They haven't kissed, they aren't dating, there's no _reason_ for Astra to hope for anything, but her heart can't help itself. She watches as Charlie's mouth twists, and she looks at Astra with something unreadable in her eyes. "You're a jerk," she says. "You know that, right?" 

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"If I kissed you, what would you do?" Charlie asks. It's not an answer, but somehow it's also the only answer. 

Astra doesn't know what to say. She doesn't know, can't even contemplate a world in which she's kissed Charlie. "Why don't you kiss me and find out?" 

Charlie kisses her for the first time under the roses, and she's smiling. It's hardly even a kiss because she's grinning too hard, her smile pressing itself to Astra's mouth. Charlie kisses her and it's like something wakes in Astra's chest. Her whole body feels - something. Buzzy, excited down to the tips of her toes. Like she's vibrating. 

Astra's never kissed anyone before. Spending her teenage years in Hell didn't give her a lot of opportunities. With a shock, she realizes: this one is her first. 

Charlie stops smiling. Astra can feel the change against her mouth, the way Charlie's lips shift from tightness and teeth to this inviting, soft thing. "Can I try that again?" Charlie asks. Her mouth is so close to Astra's that the feel of her breath and her lips moving is almost ticklish. 

"Yeah," Astra whispers back. "You could." 

Astra's second kiss is also with Charlie, also under the roses. This time, Charlie's hand is cradling the back of her neck and her mouth is slow and sweet and deliberate. This time, it feels so good that Astra worries she'll break apart. 

It's Charlie's mouth but it's also not about Charlie's mouth at all. It's about the way that Astra's body reacts, the way that the act of being kissed sends happy little shivers down Astra's arms, down to the tips of her toes. It's the way that Astra feels her own lips react instinctively, parting to accept Charlie's. The way that the gentle brush of sensitive mouths together makes Astra feel so good and happy and alive that it's almost too much to bear. 

"What do you think?" Charlie asks. 

Her voice is so soft, so tender. It takes a moment for Astra to realize that they're not kissing anymore; her brain feels like it's running in slow motion. Once it catches up to reality, she realizes: they're not kissing anymore. Her hands are around Charlie's waist. Charlie's watching her with a gentle attentiveness that Astra doesn't think she's ever seen directed at herself, before. "Good," Astra says. "I feel good about kissing you."


	3. ready your hand in mine (i could only get so far without you by my side)

_Come visit_ Charlie had told her. At least, Astra thinks that's what she'd said. Everything they talked about was a bit of a haze, because: kissing. Astra is discovering a lot of things about herself and one of the things she's learned is just how much she likes kissing. So there are some gaps, some soft-focus things she may have tuned out to pay attention to the way that Charlie's collarbone felt against her tongue. 

But she's standing here, in almost-too-tight jeans and a spiked choker and a t-shirt she stole from the back of John's closet. She packed an overnight bag, just in case, because she's pretty sure that they have a date and she's pretty sure that it's in 1970s London. 

Charlie picks her up. She's not there for the longest time, and then suddenly she is. Astra hears her first, the gentle buzz of a time portal opening somewhere in the garden and then the crunch of gravel under Charlie's boots. She walks up the path with her hands in her pockets, shoulders slanted like she's a little bit nervous. That body language shifts entirely when she notices Astra. Her shoulders drop, her expression shifts from serious to bright. "Hey, you," she says. 

Astra's heart leaps, as if to say, _yes, yes, hey me_. "You're late," is what she says. 

Charlie shrugs. "Fashionably. Come on." 

+

She takes Astra to a punk club, a slightly nicer one than their first. It doesn't really matter. At a certain point, all clubs are sort of the same - in Hell and up above. They all give Astra that feeling, as she steps into the wall of noise and the humidity of hundreds of people dancing as hard as they can - cozy. Almost like coming home. The sound and the heat of it wraps around them both like an embrace; something about the crowd makes Astra feel just invisible enough that she can finally relax. 

When she reaches for Charlie, Charlie reaches back. Their hands meet, lace together and Charlie squeezes tight. She's so excited. She can't quite contain herself; she's bobbing up and down on her toes with anticipation as they walk past the man at the door. It's so - something. 

Astra's excited too, in that jittery, fluttery way she always is with firsts. (This is, in many ways, Astra's first date.) But there's this second layer to it with Charlie. A layer of affection and contentment, like even though it's a first it's also the easiest thing in world because Charlie's there with her. 

Astra doesn't know when that happened.

+

They dance. Astra's learned her lesson about the whiskey; she has two drinks to get to that place of warm and fuzzy and then stops. Charlie doesn't care much for drinking tonight. They're here for each other; using alcohol to escape kind of defeats the purpose. 

They dance in the center of the club, right where the press of bodies is the tightest and the most violent. She knows how to do it now, how to move the way that Charlie does all elbows and shoulder contact to the snarls and screams from the stage. It's dancing with her full body, knocking gently-but-not-too-gently against strangers on the floor and feeling grounded by it. Of course Charlie loves this; how could she not. 

Charlie's movements are elemental, like she emerged fully formed on the dance floor of a punk club in precisely this era, in precisely this location. It's breathtaking. 

"You're so kissable," Astra says. She has to lean in close, press her mouth almost against Charlie's ear and half-shout it. "It's not fair." 

This time, Charlie kisses her. 

They're already pressed so close; it's hard for her not to. One of Charlie's arms is already wrapped around Astra's waist, holding to keep the crush of the crowd from separating them. Charlie smiles, her teeth flashing white in the dark and then her other arm comes up around Astra's shoulders and pulls her in. Her arm creates a little space, a haven where nobody can quite see what their mouths are doing and she kisses Astra right there on the dance floor. 

Astra can feel her heart thrum. It does this every time; something about the contact and the feeling and the _Charlie_ ness of these kisses just gets her. Charlie kisses her like she dances, hard and intense, her tongue sliding into Astra's mouth almost immediately. Astra opens herself up to it. 

Kissing here, with the adrenaline of the club already humming through her, is even better than regular kissing. It's exciting, and it's also _exciting_ low in Astra's belly, the kind of kiss that makes Astra's whole body react. Astra sighs into Charlie's mouth; it's impossible to hear but from the way Charlie responds Astra's pretty sure she can feel it. 

Charlie hums into Astra's mouth, releases the kiss for a moment to bite at Astra's lower lip before diving right back in. This one is deeper, big enough that they both have to stop moving to the music to just experience it. Astra's hips push forward and Charlie's knee bends at just the right time to meet them; it catches Astra off guard. The upward pressure and sudden contact leave Astra breathless; she feels a sudden burst of sensation and awareness of just how much her body is reacting. 

Charlie pulls away from the kiss to bring her mouth against Astra's ear. "Do you want to get out of here?" she asks. 

Astra doesn't know if it's her voice or the words but she _feels_ what Charlie says. The whole lower half of her body is suddenly buzzing electric with excitement. "Yeah," she says back. "Let's go."

+

They haven't done this before. 

Not because they've talked about it, or anything embarrassing like that but - maybe they should. Or maybe talking about it is the worst possible thing. Astra doesn't know how this is supposed to go and the only person she knows well enough to go to for advice is John which - absolutely not. 

(John who can't even acknowledge that he one hundred percent definitely is in a serious relationship right now to someone who _lives in his house_ and has heard said serious relationship unfolding from one floor away. So even if Astra did feel comfortable talking to him about sex, she knows enough to know that he's _definitely_ not qualified to answer.) 

_Virgin_ isn't the right word. First of all, it implies a lot of things about purity and chastity that definitely don't apply when a person has lived in Hell for as many years as Astra has. But it's also - like, there's no Hell High School. People don't date, because they're not _people_ , they're demons and souls of the damned and it's just - none of the rules really apply. But up here, now that she's free, there's a lot of things that Astra hasn't - 

It's a lot of firsts. She's someone who hasn't had the chance to get her firsts over with, and maybe most of those firsts have happened with Charlie but that doesn't mean she wants to talk about it. 

(Astra feels like Charlie sort of knows.)

(Charlie has this way of - she always checks. Before a next step, before she tries something new there's a moment where she hesitates and makes sure to meet Astra's eyes. There's a moment of asking before they move on and she always waits for Astra to say yes before she proceeds.)

They haven't done any of this before, the things that come after kissing and some gentle petting and Astra knows that Charlie's usually the type to - _go all the way_ sounds so childish, but she can't think of a better expression. Charlie's a casual sex person, and what they've been doing has been anything but. 

But here they are in the middle of Charlie's flat, sprawled on the couch and they've been kissing each other breathless for long minutes now. _Making out_ , that's the phrase. Charlie has her hands up Astra's shirt and she's sitting on Astra's lap and Astra's whole body is so full of desire that she can hardly stand it. It's so lovely, the sweet ache between her legs and the way that Charlie's mouth-hands-hips-body make it build. 

Charlie slides one hand away from Astra's tit, running it palm down across her belly until it lands at the button of Astra's jeans. Astra feels her insides flutter at the thought. "Can I -" she whispers. 

"Yes," Astra replies breathlessly into Charlie's mouth. 

Charlie flicks the button open, one-handed. Her hand keeps sliding, wriggles down into Astra's jeans but she stops after a few inches; the fabric too tight for her to go further. "Fuck these tight -"

_Trousers_ , Astra knows that's the end to Charlie's sentence, but her brain fills in another word and she giggles before she can catch herself. "That's the idea," she says. 

Charlie makes a face. "Cheeky." 

"What do you want me to -" "Do you want to take these off?" They speak at the same time, over each other. 

It takes a moment for them both to register the other's words. "Yeah," Astra says. "Just let me up."

Charlie moves to the side. She's still straddling Astra's lap, one leg slung across Astra's thighs but there's enough of a space that Astra can wriggle her way out of her jeans. She leaves her underwear on. Charlie makes a point of noticing, her eyes and then her fingertips brushing against black cotton. She makes a noise in the back of her throat, something that's not quite a word but definitely communicates _appreciation._

Astra feels that ache grow even sweeter. "Come back here," she says. "Keep going." 

Charlie does, and she does. She settles down on Astra's lap, and her fingers press against Astra through her panties and that ache shifts to something more urgent. 

Charlie's fingertips do something wonderful between Astra's legs, and her mouth does something wonderful to Astra's mouth. Charlie makes Astra come for the first time on the sofa in her London flat, half-dressed and sticky from the club and Astra doesn't think she's ever felt quite so good, before.


	4. hope i never lose you, hope it never ends

_Come visit_ , Astra tells Charlie, and she does. 

Charlie visits Astra at home. She learns the best way to sneak into Astra's bedroom (time portal first or, if her aim is off, back garden to side trellis to bedroom window). She learns how to make Astra come with both hands and her mouth and Astra learns to be quiet enough that John can't hear. Astra learns Charlie's body, learns the things that make her shiver and the things that make her shout and all the things in between. 

Charlie visits Astra over and over again until one day, she goes to visit Astra at home and she's not there. There's a note on the inside of the front door, in John's handwriting: _Gone to space. Ask Gideon._

(Later, Astra will learn that Charlie opened a time portal to talk to Gideon and ended up in the middle of the kitchen during dinner. She'll learn that Charlie spent an hour and a half crafting a completely absurd story about why she'd come to visit and that the team spent an hour and a half pretending to believe her. That Charlie ended up catching up with the team for another hour after that before she found the chance to sneak away to Astra's room.)

What Astra's aware of is that she's in her bed on the Waverider. She'd skipped dinner, feeling - something. Off, somehow. 

She likes being with the team but it's still sort of against her better judgement. Charlie wasn't wrong, that night months ago when she said that having the team had been good for her and that it would be good for Astra, too. But the effort of relearning her instincts, _making friends_ is utterly exhausting. There's only so much of it that she can handle at one time, and she's learned to retreat often. To take a step back when she feels frustration flare white-hot behind her eyes and cool off on her own. 

Astra's lying upside down on her bed, reading a book, when the door opens and someone wanders into her room like they own the place. 

Astra flips over, her body covering the book on instinct. She's reading about gardening, and it's not _secret_ , not technically, but caring about plants is something that feels too private for her to share with the team just yet. It's another second or two before her brain registers that it's not just _someone_ walking in, it's Charlie. 

She sighs and lets her body relax. "What are you doing here?" 

Charlie leans against the doorframe, crosses her arms. "What are _you_ doing here? I thought we had a date." 

Astra closes her eyes. They did, they definitely did, and time travel is so confusing and every time she asks about it she gets a different answer. "I was supposed to be back on time. Does it not work like that?" 

Charlie shrugs. "Sometimes it does, kind of. Unless it doesn't."

Astra rolls her eyes. Of course. "Right." 

"So, you've joined the team now," Charlie says. Her voice is careful, enough that it makes Astra look up. She's got this cautious look on her face, neutral in a way that Astra's learned means she's trying to hide another, more private emotion. "Didn't expect that." 

Astra shrugs. She doesn't know how to talk about this, mostly because she doesn't feel like she knows what she's doing. _Joining the team_ sounds so formal. Astra's only here because John is here and he insisted that he needed her help, and John's only here because Sara's missing and it all feels really confusing and temporary and weird. Mostly, she can't talk about this lying on her belly with a gardening book pressed to her chest. 

She rolls over, rights herself and carefully sets her book aside. Her favourite place to sit is at the head of the bed, so she slides her way up the sheets, pats the duvet as an invitation. Charlie crosses the distance between them. She settles herself so that she's facing Astra, one knee tucked beneath her and touching Astra's knee. "Hi," Charlie says. 

"Hey," Astra replies. Having Charlie this near is instantly calming. All of the uncertainty of her life, all of the weirdness that comes with having feelings and learning to be a person again, they seem so easy to deal with when Charlie's touching her.

She reaches out for Charlie's hand. Their fingers lace together automatically, now. Astra's learning to appreciate the familiarity of Charlie's fingers, the ways that they fit together between her own. She pulls their clasped hands towards herself, presses kisses along Charlie's knuckles. 

Astra watches as that carefully crafted neutral expression of Charlie's shifts into affection. Her smile warms, it reaches her eyes and crinkles the skin around them. "I have literally no idea what is happening on this ship at any given moment. Everyone here is weird and they have _so many_ feelings. I'm only here because John asked me to come with him." 

Charlie nods. "I heard about Sara." 

"Yeah," she says. "I wish I hadn't missed our date, though." 

Charlie winks at her. It still makes Astra's stomach do a little flip, teases her mouth into a smile despite Astra's best efforts. "It was going to be a good one," she says. 

"Tell me about it," Astra says. 

Charlie pulls their joined hands towards herself, drags her mouth across Astra's knuckles. She kisses them with tongue, the tip of it swirling across the peaks and valleys of them and Charlie knows what that does to her. Knows that it makes Astra's heart flutter and her breath catch. They know each other well enough to know things about each other, now. "It works better if I show you," she says. 

"Fine," Astra says. Her voice is defiant, as though Charle's invitation was a dare. "Show me." 

Charlie sits up on her knees and falls forward, each hand against the wall on either side of Astra's shoulders. Her mouth is inches away, a beautiful temptation that she knows Astra can't ever resist. 

They don't talk about it until after. After Charlie has kissed Astra breathless against her headboard, after Astra's flipped Charlie onto her back to kiss her breathless into the bed. They talk once Astra's come, wet and ecstatic around Charlie's fingers, and Charlie's come loud and eager against Astra's mouth. They need this, first. 

They don't talk until they're both naked and curled together underneath Astra's duvet. Charlie pulls the book off of the nightstand, sets it in Astra's hands. "What are you reading about?" 

Astra opens the book. There's a chapter on roses, she opens it to the page and runs her fingertip across the photo she'd been studying when Charlie first came in. "The rose by the back gate is looking unhappy. I think it needs some more attention." 

"Yeah?" Charlie says. "You gonna sing to it?" 

Astra rolls her eyes. "I was going to start with compost." 

Charlie shakes her head, cuddles close so that her head is resting on Astra's bare breasts. "Any attention from you would revive it," she says. "If it knows what's good for it." 

"You're ridiculous," Astra says. 

"You love it," Charlie replies. 

Here's the thing: Astra sort of does. She doesn't know what to do with that, with the first that's expanding in her chest like a balloon, threatening to burst out of her. She's not ready for it to escape. What she says is: "Stay." 

Charlie looks up. "Yeah?" 

"Yeah. Just - stay with me for a while." 

"What, like rejoin the team?" Charlie asks. 

Astra shrugs. "I don't know, I just - I just miss you a lot, and we might find Sara in three hours or we might find her after - I don't know, three months of heartwarming family adventures." 

Charlie laughs. "Now you're getting it." 

Astra runs her hand across Charlie's shoulders, down her spine. She can't seem to get tired of this feeling: holding Charlie and running her hands along the curves of her. "I don't want to not see you," she says. It comes out like a whisper, and she hides it further by speaking it into the top of Charlie's head. 

Charlie's quiet for a long moment. Astra can't see her with her face pressed against Charlie's hair. She can feel Charlie rub little circles against her hip, and she does her best to focus on that and not the wave of anxiety building inside of her. "Yeah," Charlie says. "I could stay for a bit." 

"Really?" Astra whispers. Her eyes prickle, like she might cry. 

Charlie shrugs. "If you want," she says. "I don't want to not see you, either." 

Astra can feel Charlie blink against her chest, they're pressed that close. "I'd really like that," Astra says. 

"Then I will," Charlie replies.


End file.
